


Come Crashing

by LillilX



Category: The Maze Runner RPF, dylmas
Genre: Cheating, Comfort/Angst, Dylan's madly in love, Dylan's moles, F/M, London, M/M, Part Two, Single Dylan, Swearing, Thomas is a little jerk sometimes, Thomas' girlfriend, Thomas' life, second part, some sweet fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-13
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-26 05:54:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4992802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LillilX/pseuds/LillilX
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They can't keep going like that.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Part two of "I guess that's love".</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

  
  


He fucked up.  
  
He knows it by the way Britt had slammed the door but he doesn’t know what to do about it. He had to be honest, he had to tell her. He had to say that he’s falling for someone else because it is the truth and can’t hold it anymore. He had tried to call her and of course, the only time she had actually picked up it was just to tell him to fuck off. Which he did and that’s why he’s been hiding in his flat, drinking until he passes out and eating whatever he finds in the fridge. It’s pathetic, he suspects, but the voice in his head that tells him that kind of stuff gets murdered by alcohol every night so he doesn’t care. Soon he realizes he doesn’t have a girlfriend anymore and he cries because he loves her. He calls some friends and everyone’s freaking out, they can’t believe it. “But you’re so perfect together” someone says, pity in her voice and Dylan just smashes his cellphone to the ground and then goes to vomit. He’s pathetic, he knows. He’s so crushed he can’t think about anything else until he thinks about Thomas, and if it’s possible he feels even worse.  
  
Because he’s an idiot, that’s why. He tries to picture Thomas’ life: Happy as always, getting hammered at the million parties he gets invited to, screwing around, perfectly pleased with his girlfriend, because it’s obvious that Thomas wouldn’t even think about doing what he’d done and Dylan’s gotta give it to him: The kid KNOWS how to act. So he imagines him, cheeky and proud, living life just as he should, because even when he’s falling for him –and falling hard, he should’ve stayed quiet about it. But he’s who he is and cannot change that. He had to tell her, to see what she had to say but she had left without even a word, making his world crumble, turning him into pieces.  
  
The fact that bothers him the most is that Thomas couldn’t care less. Yes, he knows that if he calls him, Thomas will say something like “Do you need something? You want me to come over?” with concern but Dylan wants him to _care_ for real. He wants him to take a fucking plane just to tell him that he left Bella and that he loves him, but he knows it’s too stupid to even think about it. So he gets mad at him and when he calls he just lets the phone ring. Thomas calls three times exactly and then stops, but he insists the next day, and that’s it. Dylan tries to forget about everything and goes for a walk with Posey but he can’t bring himself to tell him about Thomas. He just tells him that he cheated on Britt, that he’s falling for the person he had cheated with and Posey just listens to him as they walk down the boulevard. “I don’t know, man” he says, honest as always. “If you want her, go apologize, try to win her back and stop being a pathetic piece of shit”.  
  
But that’s the point, he doesn’t know what he wants anymore.  
  
Things go south by the end of the week. He feels numb and tired and calls his agent just to get more alcohol because he can’t come out of the house, he can’t deal with paparazzi and fans. By seven p.m. he’s got three new bottles of whiskey and a six pack of beers and he’s happy to tell his agent to go fuck himself when he starts telling him he should stop. “Whatever, man, I’m on vacation. I earned this” he finalizes and then shuts the door on his face. He takes the beer pack to the living room and watches t.v. although he’s thinking about Thomas and how to end things with him. He knows that’s the best thing he can do, because it turns out he can’t go on. He plans on calling him to say: “Hey, listen, I just want to tell you that it’s over” quickly and pain free but when he grabs his half smashed phone he can’t do it. “Fuck” he curses, and then throws the goddamn thing to the wall, destroying it for good.  
  
When he waked up it’s almost midnight and he’s wet in beer. There’s knocking on the door, persistent and loud and his head spins as he tries to stand. He ends up falling on the carpet and takes a minute to compose, while the door pounding is still going on.  
  
-What THE FUCK? –he screams, finally getting up and walking furiously to the door- What the fuck are you…?  
  
But he opens and there is Thomas, looking annoyed.  
  
-What are you…?  
-You wouldn’t pick up –Thomas says, puzzled- What happened?  
-Oh, man… - Dylan laughs, feeling very drunk. He goes back to the living room and then notices Thomas is still out. He’s educated enough to wait for him to invite him in-. Come in?  
  
Thomas gets in the flat and closes the door behind him. He’s got a small bag hanging from his shoulder and looks smoking hot: all sleepy, his longer hair messed and wearing his leather jacket, he even looks a little older than the last time he’d seen him. Dylan thinks about it all and really, really wants to fuck him right in the spot but he also feels mad at him. He doesn’t even know why anymore, he just wants to cry and tell him to leave him the fuck alone.  
  
-What’s going on? –Thomas inquires, getting close but not sitting. He’s looking around and that when Dylan realizes he’s been living like a hobo in his own house, with beer bottles and food leftovers on the floor, clothes discarded and the whole place smells just bad, probably as he does too.  
-Britt broke up with me –he answers quietly. Thomas looks unimpressed but still concerned.  
-You should’ve told me –the blonde says and Dylan knows the end of that sentence. “So I wouldn’t come” and he’s almost sure Thomas is thinking that. He doesn’t get too far when things go hard, he thinks he can’t handle pressure that well.  
-Yeah, what for? –Dylan asks, angered and Thomas doesn’t say a thing although he looks slightly disappointed. He sadly smiles and then walks back to the door.  
-Clearly it’s a bad time, so I’m gonna take off –he says and Dylan can’t speak, he stops and looks at him but Dylan’s eyes are on the carpet- Ok, call me when you’re better Dylan.  
  
Dylan laughs.  
  
-Sure thing, bud –he says sarcastically and when the door closes he wants to chase him, but instead he kicks the beer pack until he’s tired and everything’s a mess.

  


The next day he’s up by eight and calls his agent to apologize and get a new cellphone. He tries to call Thomas but his phone seems to be off, so he takes a bath, tries to look not so bad and gets out. It takes courage because by that moment, everyone knows he’s single again and unfortunately he lives in a very paparazzi crowded area. He encounters three guys but shakes them off easily as he walks to his car. He knows where Thomas usually stays, so he’s going and apologizing for his stupid reaction, and they’re going to make it work. Being sober, things are different. He is still sad about Britt but he doesn’t want things to end with Thomas. When he stops on a red light, reality hits him and hits him hard. Yes, maybe he would mend things up with Thomas but everything will be the same. Thomas in London, with his girlfriend and him in L.A., single, longing, pathetic.  
  
He pulls over and calls him again but Thomas doesn’t answer. _He’s mad at you, you asshole_ , he thinks and of course he is. He was probably worried enough to catch a plane just to go and see if he was alright and Dylan had just shut him out because he couldn’t handle his life. He calls again, turns the radio on and takes a sip of his caramel macchiato but Thomas’ phone seems to be dead. _Great, Dylan, kid got robbed and murdered and it’s your fault_. When he finishes his beverage he’s still there, calling when the song changes and by the end of some weird techno goth song he swears it’s the last time and it actually is. Thomas picks up, sounding extremely irritated.  
  
- _What’s up?_ –he says and Dylan feels uneasy because it’s the first time he hears Thomas like that.  
-Where are you? I’ve been calling you for ages, man. I thought we could go for lunch, I know a great sushi place by the…  
- _I’m in London, Dylan_ –Thomas cuts off in a nonchalant manner. Dylan feels so fucking stupid he could scream-. _I… I have some things to do, I was going to stay only for a week or so..._ –it’s obvious that he’s mad at him but still tries to be polite and Dylan’s trying not to laugh out of embarrassment and despair- _I’m heading home now_ –the british says, exhausted- _I’ll call you later, ok?_  
-Yeah, yeah, cool –Dylan answers, his head burning as he tries to hide is disappointment- You call me whenever you feel like it.  
  
Thomas lets out a brief thick laugh.  
  
- _Fine. Later_.  
-Yeah… Later.

  


But Thomas doesn’t call and by the second day Dylan’s seriously thinking about going through the three unopened bottles of whiskey but then he gets another, -maybe- better idea. So he calls his mom and tells her right away that he’s flying to England. She doesn’t know about Thomas but she knows about Britt and comforts him in the best way she can by the phone. Dylan’s ok with the break up now. He knows he had it coming, for being equally stupid as honest, and he can’t blame Britt for reacting that way. Even so, he leaves a message in her machine just to let her know that he cares about her and wants her to be happy, which is totally true. He packs his belongings at the same time he argues with his agent but he feels excited, even though it’s obvious that Thomas is going to be surprised. He only hopes that he doesn’t reject him.  
  
When he’s about to leave, the phone starts to ring and he picks up in a hurry. It’s Britt on the other side, a lot quieter than before.  
  
-Hey! –he greets her, truly stunned.  
- _I received your message_ –she says. She sounds like crying- _I think it’s very nice of you._  
-You know I only want the best for you –he exclaims and Britt laughs, happy. Things tumble down a little but the Dylan picks them up quickly, he really wants to go-. I’m going out, babe – he says with a mellow tone and Britt gets silent- I’m going to London, I need some time away.  
- _London?_ –she asks- _Why London? Oh my god…_ -she’s mad now- _I called because I wanted to talk things and you’re going to London? Is she there?_  
  
Dylan doesn’t know what to say.  
  
-No, she’s not… –he offers but Britt’s angry again and hangs up- HE is! Fuck! FUCK!

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

  
  


Thomas is down. He’s been in bed for two days straight, just getting up to visit the bathroom or the kitchen. Bella’s been around, of course. She’s nice enough to cook him chicken soup for his fake cold and just lay there with him, talking about her day. Thomas knows he’s being childish but for one moment and for the first time in his life, he wants out. Out of worrying, of thinking of Dylan and feeling so messed up. He's actually thinking of leaving London and Bella, and take a trip by himself, just to be quiet and peaceful.  
  
Thinking about Dylan it’s hard, because he feels a lot of things about him. He feels connected to him, in a way that he hasn’t felt before and he loves him, very deeply indeed. But jealousy is a thing that Thomas cannot handle, and he couldn’t stay and watch Dylan mourning over his ex. He’s selfish, probably. He should’ve stayed and ease him through the whole thing, that’s what friends do, but he just couldn’t. So with his heart shattered, he had bought his ticket back home, without even thinking about it too much. He’s not a doubtful person; he knows what he wants and what must done and he does so.  
  
And he doesn’t shed tears.  
  
But there’s a first time for everything, and it comes on Saturday, right after waking up while he listens to his mother singing nearby. He doesn’t even know why, but he suspects it has to do with his dream of Dylan. It’s just a few tears and then he gets up and shakes it off, feeling like a tosser. He feels conflicted and confused whenever he thinks about Dylan, he doesn’t know what to do, how to act, what to expect. He doesn’t know where their relationship’s going and he’s scared to find out, because he does know something, and that is that he can’t change. Not for Dylan, nor anyone else. He isn’t capable.  
  
But the truth is that he misses him and not talking to him it’s killing him slowly.  
  
It’s raining outside when he decides to jump in the shower before meeting Bella and a couple of friends for dinner. His mother’s about to leave too and she suddenly stops him from closing the door.  
  
-What…?  
-Would you tell me what’s going on? –she demands. Thomas knows his mother knows him too well to lie to her and actually get away with it. So he doesn’t.  
  
When he gets out of the shower, his phone’s ringing. He lets it, while he chooses his outfit for the night. He picks up the clothes he’s more comfortable with and gets dressed, feeling emotionally drained but ready to kick it off and begin to think a way out of the mess his life has become. He’s putting on the leather jacket when the phone rings again, so he picks up. It’s probably Bella, hurrying him up.  
  
-Hello?  
- _Watcha doin’?_ – Dylan answers and Thomas feels his heart skip a bit.  
-Hey… -suddenly missing him more than before, but he's incapable of leaving anger behind- How’s it going?  
- _Erh…_ -Dylan says, laughing a little- _Would you pick me up? I really don’t know the streets and…_  
  
Thomas can’t believe it, but he’s already putting on his shoes as fast as he can, longing for the moment to see him.  
  
-I’ll be there in fifteen.  
  
When he arrives to the airport, Dylan’s waiting for him just outside, holding a coffee and a small suitcase. Thomas stops walking and just looks at him for a second, feeling his heart pumping fast and his head going numb. Dylan’s breathtaking when he’s like that: a serious expression on his face, legs crossed, absent minded. But when he spots him, standing like an idiot right in front of him, he smiles widely and Thomas feels that pull, that chemistry thing that had made him like Dylan since the very beginning. So he walks, although his mind is confused and it’s not really the better time for a reunion. He’s still mad, but when he reaches Dylan, the only thing he can do is to hold him in his arms, because he bloody missed him. He feels him relax in the embrace, exhaling softly as he tightens his arms around him, so he does the same thing. His smell, the _Dylan smell_ is enough to make him feel happy and he wants to stop worrying and getting angry about things he can’t control. He wants to get lost in him and forget about everything else.  
  
-What a surprise… -is the first thing that escapes from his lips when they pull away. Dylan seems tired and sleepy, but happy.  
-Sorry, man. I probably should’ve told you before –he apologizes- But I really wanted to see you. I know I messed up.  
  
Thomas smiles a little, thinking it’s probably the first time he hears Dylan accepting his bad behavior.  
  
-It was my fault, anyway –he shrugs- C’mon, let’s go.  
-Did you bring your bike? –Dylan asks, like a hyperactive child while they walk.  
-My mum’s car –Thomas answers- I figured out you’d bring some baggage.  
  
When they get into the car they look at each other and they share a smile before Dylan starts laughing. He seems happy and nervous, probably because he’s in another country and Thomas knows how anxious he can get in foreign places. He squeezes his hand a bit and then Dylan’s looking around, looking for people but they’re in a secure area. Then he leans and gives him a brief kiss on the lips, which makes Thomas ache in lust. He kisses him back, grabbing him by the nape and Dylan just moans, because that’s what he does best.  
  
-We should get going –Thomas says- You’re up for dinner?  
-You’re taking me out? –Dylan asks and suddenly Thomas is terrorized with the idea of telling him it’s not like that. It’s in that moment that he realizes how hard things are about to get.  
-No, I… -he starts the engine- I had plans with Bella and a couple of friends. Just dinner.  
  
The look on Dylan’s face is enough to make him feel guilty, but he can’t look at it anymore because he’s busy driving.  
  
-Okay, just take me to a hotel man, I gotta rest anyway. Flight was fucking shitty –the younger says immediately.  
-You’re gonna stay at my house –Thomas states firmly- And you’re coming with us to dinner.  
  
Dylan doesn’t say anything for a few seconds and then laughs, but it’s an uncomfortable laugh.  
  
-I’d rather not –he says- Really, dude. I don’t mean to intrude.  
-It’s just dinner, Dylan. You’ll have some food and then we’re going to rest. That’s it.  
-I don’t want to be around your girl, Thomas. I like her, seriously, but I’m just not in the mood right now.  
  
Thomas stops nagging him, because he knows the feeling. He had been around Britt maybe three times and it was terribly annoying, because he felt like he couldn’t behave as always with Dylan. He realizes Dylan’s re-thinking about going there in the first place, maybe wanting to leave, but he doesn’t want him to do that. Even so, he doesn’t want to leave him alone in his house or take him to a bloody hotel. They’re friends after all. Really good friends that can have fun around others.  
  
-Just dinner? –he asks with a small voice and then Dylan’s laughing again.  
-‘Right –he says, giving up- But there’s gonna be consequences for you. Serious consequences. 

  


The place they go to is nice, but Dylan doesn’t bloody care about it even though he’s not properly dressed. Thomas admires how he seems to have a total lack of self-consciousness, it makes him attractive in a very rudimental way. He watches him, because he missed him so much he can’t stop. Dylan’s charming when he wants, talkative and really smart, he also laughs a lot and it’s a contagious laugh. Bella’s friends seem to be having fun, but when they get to dessert, Thomas can feel something’s off. Dylan’s telling them a funny story about the Teen Wolf set, but Bella’s distracted in her phone, just smiling from time to time. Thomas knows she doesn’t like people like Dylan. She tends to be shyer and people like that makes her uncomfortable, but she doesn’t say anything about it. He wants to say something to make her feel better but he doesn’t know what exactly. His mind’s kinda stuck in the thought of getting home and fuck with Dylan right away.  
  
Alcohol doesn’t help either.  
  
After dinner they take Bella to her house and she’s obviously mad. Thomas walks her to the front door and kisses her softly, pulling apart quickly because he feels her upset and Dylan’s watching. It’s hell. He swears he died over night and now is paying all of his sins in hell, he can feel the heat even. Bella smiles at him and then looks back to the car, Thomas can see her frowning.  
  
-You didn’t tell me he was coming…  
-I didn’t know, it was a surprise –he says- Is it ok? –he adventures, just to hear her lie.  
-Sure. You’ve missed him, haven’t you? 

  


When he’s driving home, he can’t stop thinking about a way out of the mess. Dylan’s talking about some work stuff, obviously trying to fill the silence and Thomas drives, while smoking a cigarette. Dylan’s smoking too but he soon throws the thing away and concentrates on talking. Thomas wants to ravish him, or get ravished by him, he doesn’t care. He feels a big, powerful pressure on his stomach, a complicated mixture between jealousy, anger, concern, love. He feels suffocated, because the truth is he doesn’t know what to do. About bloody anything.  
  
-Why did she break up with you? –he asks.  
-Because I told her.  
-Are you bloody serious? –he shouts, almost stopping the car.  
-I didn’t tell her about you –Dylan explains- I told her I cheated on her and that… I’m falling for the person I cheated with.  
-Why did you tell her? –Thomas asks, without a clue. He’s thought of telling Bella but he knows he couldn’t. He just couldn’t.  
-Because I love her and I’m not a full jerk.  
-I love Bella…  
  
Dylan’s looking directly at him but he can’t correspond.  
  
-Have you ever thought about this? In the future? How’s it going to be? What are we going to do about it?  
  
Thomas nods, happy they’re getting to his street.  
  
-And?  
-And what? Can we just have a quiet night? You just arrived...  
-This can’t go on like this, man –Dylan says and Thomas finally stops the car in front of his house. They look at each other. Dylan’s serious and that’s a warning sign-. Honestly, we can’t go on like this.  
  
Thomas agrees and sighs, resting his arms over his head.  
  
-That’s what my mum said.  
-What? What the fuck? –Dylan babbles- You told your mom?!  
-What? I tell her everything…  
-Wh…!  
-She’s my mum! And it’s not like she’s going to tell the press about it –he calms Dylan down, grabbing his hand, noticing how broad and veiny it is. The thought makes him giggle and when he looks at Dylan, the younger quickly catches up.  
-Dude, you’re seriously sick –he says, trying to hide his laughter - But I’m not in the mood right now. I’m sorry.  
-But what about “the consequences”? –Thomas asks with an innocent smirk- You said there’d be serious consequences.

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GRAFIC XXX acts in this one.

  
  


Thomas is affected from pain and pleasure, and it’s hard to breath but at the same he feels _whole_ with Dylan deep inside him. He’s not even moving since it really hurts at the beginning and Dylan’s eyes are closed as he comfortable lays down, gently touching his dick, they’re going slow. Thomas stares at him: the moles, the scruffy beard, his long dark eyelashes. He knows he’s enjoying this contact as much as him, although he’s just sitting there, but he understands because it just feels so good. Dylan’s overwhelmed eyes open when he starts rocking. It’s not a quick pace, just a light movement enough to make Dylan tremble, big hands tightening around the blond’s hips. Thomas looks into his eyes, smiling and then starts moving faster, making those gorgeous eyes roll up as he arches his back, bucking up.  
  
-Fuck… -Thomas says, incapable of holding it any longer. Dylan’s thick and is still hurts but he doesn’t care, he could say he bloody loves it.  
  
Of the two of them, Dylan’s also the loudest and his noises rise up as the speed quickens. He’s moaning loud, shouting soft curses as his thrusts hard, grabbing Thomas’ left hip and his delicate neck with the other hand. Thomas matches his sounds, but more softly, and answers everything he’s saying with a husky “Yes”. Dylan’s a dirty talker and Thomas can’t help laughing sometimes but it’s also a weird turn on, so he keenly agrees every time. They reach a point when Thomas cannot longer pretend he’s in charge of the situation even when he’s literally on top. Dylan’s grabbing him so hard it hurts and fucking him so rough the only thing he can do is panting and groaning, enjoying his desperate assaults.  
  
He loses control completely when he leans for a kiss and Dylan quickly turns things over. He’s now on top of Thomas, kissing him harshly as he fucks him deep. Thomas needs to breath and when their lips part he moans so sweetly that Dylan cannot hold himself any longer. He grabs Thomas’ legs, spreading them apart even more and thrusts so hard the bed starts moving and the head board’s pounding on the wall. Thomas has to grab on to something so he doesn’t lose stability, so he grasps the edge of the mattress with one hand, the other reaching to Dylan’s rock hard thigh.  
  
-You fucking love this fat cock… -says Dylan, deep and hoarse, starting to feel erratic and so desperate.  
-Fuck yes –Thomas answers, licking and biting his lips as he jacks himself off at the same, frantic rhythm. It takes him just a minute or so- Oh, I’m…  
  
He’s coming so hard he feels he’s gonna pass out and the two long and paused thrusts that Dylan gives him, make him whimper and shake, but still manages to be quiet. He’s in another state of mind, exhausted and numb when he feels Dylan pulling out and opens his eyes just in time to see him masturbate over him, his full load spreading on his stomach and chest a few seconds later. Dylan moans and then releases a few “Oh my god” in whispers while Thomas reaches out to him and strokes his cock three more times, draining him completely. Dylan trembles. His skin’s wet with sweat, his parted lips are red and when his eyes open, dark and absent, Thomas thinks he could go on like that forever.  
  
-I really missed this –says after Dylan falls by his side, both panting, spent.  
-So did I –the younger agrees, laughing a little. Thomas brings him closer, pulling him into an embrace, trying to enjoy the post-orgasm bliss but it’s impossible. He’s already feeling… Odd. Soon he realizes it’s guilt and despair. Soon he realizes they indeed can’t keep going like that.  
  
He knows Dylan wants to go all the way with him, but he’s too confused to know what he wants. He grabs his pants from the nightstand to get his smokes instead of keep on digging in his feelings.  
  
-Do you think… -Dylan starts- We should just… Ignore everything and keep going like always?  
  
He sounds a little off but Thomas thinks it’s the best, for now. He smokes languidly and Dylan sits in the bed, stretching his back and arms, grunting softly with comfort. His back is even more infested with little and other bigger dark moles than his gorgeous face, as well as freckled and Thomas fondles the milky skin with lazy fingers.  
  
-Maybe –he answers, trying to sound casual although he feels tense- What do you want, luv?  
  
Dylan strokes his hair, absent-minded. It takes him forever to answer and Thomas can’t keep his eyes off his beautiful back.  
  
-I just… Want you –Dylan says sweetly, almost murmuring and Thomas’ heart beats faster.  
- _I know_ –he says. Dylan starts laughing hysterically, and he follows. 

  


They can’t stop. It’s probably about three a.m. when they jump into the shower and make out like teenagers as the water runs. Soon, Dylan’s trying to turn him over but Thomas is faster, so he pushes him, face to the wall, grabbing his hair and dick at the same time.  
  
-I think you split my lip… -Dylan laughs and Thomas bites the tender part between his shoulder and neck, making him whine- Way to go, _Tommy_.  
  
Thomas laughs a little and then starts pushing a couple of fingers in Dylan’s tight slit. Really soon Dylan’s begging for it, so Thomas uses his cock instead of the two fingers, with a small amount of saliva just to slide easier. Dylan grunts loudly as he slips inside and Thomas doesn’t give him the time to adjust, because he really wants to fuck him, so he starts pounding hard and Dylan complains but Thomas whispers loving words in his ear. He’s not really that good at dirty talking like him, but with honeyed words it’s different. And Dylan’s a sucker for it. Immediately his body relaxes and takes him in, moaning soft words back. Thomas takes his time and lunges softly and paused, kissing his back, neck and shoulders until Dylan’s trembling and meeting each thrust with enthusiasm. Every time their skin collides, he can feel orgasm building up inside and Dylan’s too. The American’s moaning loudly, completely thorn apart by pleasure, so Thomas charges faster and as hard as possible, burying his fingernails in Dylan’s hip and shoulder.  
  
When they come it’s together and when they lay in bed, they hold each other’s hand. In the morning they take breakfast there, in the hotel and then go straight to Thomas’ house. Dylan feels embarrassed as soon as he looks at Thomas’ mom in the eye but she acts normally, even warmly. That makes him start thinking about his own family and how they’d act in case he decided to… Come out. He doesn’t know exactly, so he stops and Thomas helps him through it, distracting him with kisses and secret touches. Everything feels right, like a vacation should be, a vacation with a great friend, in a foreign country. Thomas introduces him to a lot of different people and Dylan thinks he’s very popular for a shy guy. When they go out the first couple of times, they’re by themselves but in the third day, Bella tags along and Dylan feels tense. He tries to stop his feelings, to act normally but eventually, jealousy kicks in. Even so, they go to the hotel again and fuck like animals, raw and loud and when they’re home they do it again, sweet and silently.  
  
Dylan notices Bella’s not happy with his presence but he couldn’t care less. Who cares is Thomas but he can’t do anything about it. He’s enjoying the visit so much he doesn’t even feel bad about it, although he knows he’s a bad man. Dylan’s shaken his life, crashing his entire world with his beautiful smile and his big veiny hands but he can’t stop, he really can’t do anything about it. He thinks that if it’s possible he feels even more enamored, which is hard to digest. He feels completely out of control when he’s around, like another, different person and it’s scary, as well as exciting. They drink a lot, party with strangers and life’s wine. One night, Bella’s expression of apathy tells him he’s wrong, that he should bloody stop but he can’t, again. And that leads to a fight.  
  
He’s so drunk he can barely stay focused while Bella’s scolding him for his “odd behavior” and his gaze lingers on Dylan, a couple of meters away, dancing with a hot Swedish girl. She seems so upset he tries to talk but nothing coherent comes out, so he better keeps his mouth shut and lets her speak up. She’s angry, maybe jealous and Thomas feels crushed, even when he’s so hammered he cannot think properly. She says “What’s wrong with him?” and Thomas’ answers “What? Nothing, there’s nothing wrong with him…” but stops right before adding “he’s perfect” to it. She shuts up, looking at him like he’s mad and then demands him to take her home. He can’t drive, so he takes her in a cab, leaving Dylan having fun with the blonde girl. When he comes back, they’re kissing in a couch and he sits in another one, drinking from the bottle of whiskey. Dylan notices him and stops, laughing and Thomas is not happy about it.  
  
-Let’s go home –he says and Dylan nods, obviously knowing.  
  
When they get home, they go straight to Thomas’ room and they argue. Thomas starts yelling at him about going there and Dylan does not back off, he starts cursing and wander around, screaming he’s there because “He fucking loves him”. Thomas stops talking and just stares at Dylan. He can see tears in his eyes, so he looks down, he doesn’t dare to talk again. And Dylan laughs. He laughs bitterly as he wipes his face and then starts gathering his stuff.  
  
-What are you doing? –Thomas asks and Dylan sits on the bed, looking at him, serious, angry. He’s had enough.  
-I’m going to a hotel and then home –he answers, trying to fold a shirt- You’re right, I should have known better. I shouldn’t have come here in the first place.  
  
_What?_ A small voice asks in the back of Thomas’ head. He doesn’t remember saying nothing about that, but he’s drunk.  
  
-I… I’m sorry –he says, stammering a little but Dylan’s not listening. He’s obviously made up his mind-. Dylan, wait…  
-It’s ok, Thomas, really –says Dylan, pushing more clothes in the suitcase with anger- I should have waited. And we’d have fucked real good while filming and then things would’ve ended, and it would’ve been fucking great, right? Just a fucking fling, who fucking cares?  
-Dyl…  
-Whatever, man.  
  
Thomas is sure he’s about to cry, so he doesn’t even open his mouth again and then Dylan’s done packing. He puts his jacket back on, takes the suitcase and goes to the door. Thomas follows him outside the bedroom, trying to stop him but not daring to touch him. Dylan’s already on the phone with his agent, telling him to “get him the fuck outta there”.  
  
-Please… -he tries. Dylan’s so angry he fears he’s gonna punch him when they reach the door and he tries to block his way out but the younger just pushes him away- Dylan!  
  
But he doesn’t listen. 

  


In the morning, he calls him and he, surprisingly, picks up. He says he’s leaving in the afternoon and that he’s staying at The Hilton. He’s tired and cuts the conversation off quickly, telling him “It’s better this way”. He sounds exhausted, defeated and Thomas can’t help crying a little when they hang up. Yes, it is what he wanted, maybe without even knowing. He knows that breaking up is the best thing for both but he wasn’t brave enough to end it himself. Even though he’s trying his best to cope with the pain and to accept that it is the best indeed, he can’t let him leave like that. So he avoids talking to his mum, takes a quick bath, dresses nicely and rides his motorbike to the hotel. He wants to see him, he wants him to forgive him. He wants to say goodbye face to face and end their affair for good.  
  
But when he gets to the hotel, things change. Nervousness starts to overwhelm him as he walks to the room Dylan had said, and the thought of seeing him face to face is too much to bare. He stops, thinking that maybe he should just leave and let things follow their own way but he can’t do that, he’s already there. So he goes on, although his steps are getting slower, his hands sweatier. He suddenly feels the need of stopping him from leaving but the other part of his head, the rational one’s screaming. Let him go, it says, it’s over, over for good, and it’s true, so he makes a quick plan: He’s gonna see him, tell him how much he adores him and wish him a happy flight, a happy life until they meet again. It’s a great plan indeed, the adult, responsible thing to do but everything falls apart when Dylan opens the door and the look on his face tells him he’s actually happy to see him, and his body’s half naked.  
  
-I love you –he spits out, and Dylan looks just as shaken as him.  
  
As soon as the door closes, they’re kissing. It’s an unfair thing, really, because Dylan’s trying to stop Thomas but at the same time he doesn’t want to. He pushes him away, hand on his chest but Thomas is eager and the need in his lusty behavior makes him surrender. It’s violent, heavy, amazingly overwhelming. They kiss like never before, moaning in desperation, touching and groping against each other like horny teens discovering pleasure. The towel around Dylan’s waist’s soon in the floor, followed by Thomas’ knees. He looks at Dylan for a moment, and Dylan takes a quick glimpse of his anxious lips before he eats him whole. He groans, responding in a way he can’t believe, because he’s mad and devastated, but also aroused. He cannot say no. He can’t restrain himself because Thomas is so damn great at giving head. He fists a couple of locks of the soft, blond hair and starts fucking that hot mouth of his, without even caring about smothering the brit. But Thomas doesn’t care, he even moans and sucks harder, locking his eyes in Dylan’s, running his hands all over his thighs.  
  
It’s so hot, Dylan just goes all the way and thrusts, frenzied. Lust is filling his head and soon it gets to the point when he can’t think anymore. He lunges hard, watching Thomas’ eyes watering and then closes his own, concentrating on the wonderful sensation. Thomas wouldn’t pull out as always; he seems determined to make him come in his mouth and Dylan can’t help thinking that maybe this is his precarious way of saying he’s sorry. So he grabs his hair even harder, making him whimper and thrusts until he’s choking and then lets him go. Thomas is coughing a little and Dylan kneels beside him, taking him by the hair again and the waistband of his tight designer jeans, and turning him over, to his hands and knees. Thomas doesn’t say anything but helps undo his pants, trying to catch his breath. Dylan can’t wait and penetrates him with two fingers. Thomas screams but stops immediately, biting his lower lip.  
  
-Fuck, Dylan… -he complains, shakily.  
  
There are pain tears in his eyes, he realizes. His whole body’s tense, surprised by the sudden attack but when Dylan reaches that special place that makes him see stars, he moans and then the American’s spitting in his fingers, going rougher. He sheds the tears when he closes his eyes tight, in the moment that Dylan starts pushing his strong cock inside him. Sweet love-making is a past thing, Dylan’s cold, impersonal and deep inside Thomas thinks the sting that causes in his heart is well deserved. He fucks him violently, holding him in place by grabbing his hip and the hairs of his nape. He feels used, tortured. His heart’s trembling, aching with apprehension and more tears are forming in his eyes, but there’s also this heat deep inside, the one thing that’s making him cry out in delight and spill his cum on the carpet. He’s still convulsing in pleasure when he feels Dylan’s fingernails digging painfully in his hips, followed by a loud scream of release. He feels his seed inside him, filling him up.  
  
They stay like that a few seconds, catching their breath but suddenly Dylan pulls out and gets up, leaving him to go to the bathroom. Thomas sits down, trying to understand what that means. Is this goodbye? He asks himself. He had thought it would be easy but it’s not. Dylan’s getting clean, he hears the water from the sink running and he thinks he should too, but he can’t move, he’s numb. This is goodbye. He can feel it in his guts, the pain’s already ripping from inside out. Dylan gets out and looks at him, dick still half hard and a blank, stormy gaze in his eyes.  
  
-I’m still leaving, yeah? –he says nonchalantly. Thomas nods, trying to get over it.  
  
He finally decides to get up and quickly takes a shower. While he’s inside the bathroom, he can hear Dylan talking to his mom, telling her that “He’s ready to go home”. When he gets out, starts to get dressed and cannot look at Dylan, who’s just watching tele, sitting on the bed. He sits by his side and Dylan grabs his hand, kissing the palm softly. Thomas aims for his lips but Dylan rejects him gently, getting up instead and switching off the TV. He grabs his suitcase and Thomas feels a knot tightening around his throat.  
  
-The cab must be here already- Dylan says, looking at his watch.  
-You want me to come? –Thomas asks, already knowing the answer. Dylan refuses.  
-No, man. It’s better this way –he says, absent. His words feel like daggers-. See you soon, anyway –adds with a sad smile.  
  
Thomas gets closer and Dylan pulls him into a brief embrace, letting go almost instantly. Thomas wants to say something but he can’t, he’s tongue-tied. The only thing he can do is watch him leave, breaking his heart into pieces. He knows he should go after him, that’s what his heart wants but his legs feel heavy, his breathing’s racing, so he sits in the bed, dizzy all the sudden. It’s the end, and anything in the world will change that.

  
  



	4. Chapter 4

  
  


Dylan is ok. When someone asks him how he’s doing he says _he’s ok_. They ask because of Britt, of course. Nobody knows about Thomas’ fling and he’s really starting to believe that it’s something he’ll take to the tomb. It’s ok, though. He knows the best thing he can do is to forget about their thing and go on with his life. He knows Thomas’s doing well, Kaya told him the last time they texted and she said Thomas had a short film going, besides music, which makes Dylan genuinely happy. He’s been down, he’s actually cried, but it’s been a calm thing, something he thinks he might be able to overcome on a near future. He’s talked to Britt also, they even went out for dinner, but even though he still feels things for her and vice versa, they’re not getting back together. It’s not happening, at least for a while.  
  
And he’s ok. He actually is.  
  
By the end of the first month, things pick up and he starts doing some shoots for the next Teen Wolf season. Work is great, as always, and he feels more relaxed and his friends are trying to cheer him up. He goes out with them, they find him a date and he actually presents to the thing, only to get disappointed and frustrated. He knows he’s an asshole for leaving Britt. He knows he was really lucky to get such an incredible girl interested in him and that he’s stupid enough to be in love with someone else. He’s stable to the point to get up every morning and hit the gym after work, but sometimes he gets the feeling he should just lay down and watch sad movies. Or maybe just fucking call Thomas.  
  
But he can’t go down that road again. And he’s positive on the fact that if the rings him, he’s gonna crash in the moment he hears his voice. He knows Thomas is gonna act like nothing’s happened, even happily and he _can’t do it_ , and when he takes the phone and starts clicking the numbers, he can’t complete that simple task and ends up staring at the damn thing for half an hour with a stupid face. When he gets closer to feel totally fine, he can’t help feeling sad again, and mad at the same time. He hates how things had ended, but he can’t go backwards and certainly he can’t change Thomas’ decision, can’t change his mind. Thomas chose his perfect, normal life and the only thing he can do it to shut up and panic when he thinks about the days of seeing him again. He hates the fact that he has to do it.  
  
There are days that are worse than others, and this Friday is the absolute worst. He’s been thinking about Thomas since waking up, and now, on set and trying to do his best, he can’t help feeling upset. Posey’s easing him through the whole thing, though. The guy’s being especially charming and funny, so Dylan laughs a little, when it’s obvious that everybody notices his bad mood. There’s a line of the script that’s giving him trouble; he can’t remember it properly and even though everyone’s trying to joke about it, by the sixth try he can’t do it anymore. He asks for time off, feeling terribly frustrated and leaves the set, leaves Posey, who’s asking him what’s wrong. When he gets to his trailer, he can’t believe what he sees and for a brief moment he thinks he might be hallucinating.  
  
-What the hell are you doing here? –he asks, harshly and Thomas flashes him his mesmerizing Colin Firth-smile. Dylan feels weak just by looking at him and it angers him-. Seriously, dude. You can’t… You can’t do this.  
  
Thomas’ smile weakens and now he looks concerned.  
  
-What did you expect? –Dylan says, not caring about people around, although everyone’s minding their own business- It’s over, what are you doing here? Why are you doing this?  
  
He feels even more upset when he realizes Thomas is speechless, and then he’s blushing, _the mindless dick_. But Thomas is the kind of person that doesn’t quite understands other people’s feelings. Maybe he had thought about the whole thing as a break. Not a full, real, genuine break up.  
  
-I just wanted to see how you’re doing –the blond says, really coy and Dylan wants to smack him across the face and erase whatever is left of that childish smirk that drives him crazy- I’m sorry –the older adds, and then, after Dylan can even react, he’s walking away fast, shrugging, with a smoke already between his lips.  
  
Dylan feels bad for the rest of the workday. He feels anxious just of knowing Thomas is around. He gets by, and tries to keep up the good job and by the end of the day he’s exhausted and just wants to sleep. But he doesn’t, and he doesn’t plan to do so anytime soon. He goes to a party with Posey and Crystal but things do not go the way he wants. He’s so sick of it all, he ends up just driving around town, drinking a strawberry fast food milkshake, trying to get his alcohol level under control. He can’t go home, he’s got the feeling Thomas is going to be there and he can’t face him. Even so, he can’t drive around forever and when a police officer asks him _what the hell is he doing?_ He can’t go on and finally goes home. When he gets to the door there’s no one there and he sighs in relief. Then he notices the lonely rose in the doorstep and his heart shatters. He enters the apartment quickly, leaving the red flower behind.  
  
He opens one of the three bottles of whiskey but he can’t go through it. He fills a glass and stares at the tele while answering some texts. People are asking, obviously concerned about his welfare but he can’t answer properly. He’d like to say that he’s sad because his relationship with Thomas went down, but he can’t do it, and he won’t anytime soon. It’s a complicated matter, really. Thomas is there, but _what the hell does he want?_ Is he trying to get him back? Or to pretend everything’s ok and they’re going back to be friends? He tries to forget about it, tries to get some sleep but eventually he gets up and decides to pick up the rose. He feels immensely stupid when it’s in his hand and the sweet scent travels to his nose. When he looks up Thomas is there, looking puzzled despite the light smile on his superb pink lips. Dylan’s amazed with his ability to make him burn inside.  
  
-I was going to give it to you earlier, but I figured out it was going to be really embarrassing...  
-But I’m a corny asshole –is the only thing that Dylan can say, in a whisper and Thomas laughs a little, taking two steps forward. Dylan watches the cab parking behind him- Why? –he asks and Thomas gets closer. His scent, as the rose’ is unbelievably sweet-. Why, man? I’m just starting to adjust… And why a rose? I’m not a girl, you know?  
-And you still picked it up –Thomas teases, smiling then- I couldn’t think in another way…  
-What about “I’m sorry”? –the younger laughs, looking at the flower and then at Thomas’ dark eyes. He could swear he grows up a couple of inches every time he sees him-. What is this, Thomas? What…?  
  
Thomas looks at him, making him feel weak and powerless in the spot. He knows that if Thomas dares to kiss him right there he’s gonna let him, but Thomas is not that kind of guy, he’s shy and he's educated, a proper English gentleman after all. He feels his head filled with fuzz and when Thomas takes another two steps to be closer he’s amazed by the feeling; he had hated him, he had wished he’d never met him, but in that moment he’s just surrendered, feeling an excruciating need to have his skin against his.  
  
  
-I just wanted to spend a couple of days with you, if you don’t mind –the brit says, charming- I missed you.  
  
There a part on Dylan’s mind that’s telling him to quit the charade: To stop Thomas right there and send him back to London, possibly damaging their relationship beyond repair, for good. He wants to tell him that those days without the expectation of the heartache that his on and off relationship gives him, have been ok, but at the same time he wants to ignore the voice, relegate any bad feeling and just throw himself into his arms, marking his neck with a sharp bite. He stands right in the middle, not being able to decide what’s best and then Thomas hugs him, firmly and needy, touching his neck with the tip of his cold nose. He figures out he’s been drinking and smoking a lot for the smell of his jacket and hair but in a weird way that smell, besides the cologne, comforts him. He squeezes him back and Thomas gives him a brief kiss on the temple before pulling away.  
  
-I don’t understand –Dylan complains and Thomas shrugs, obviously not understanding himself either.  
-Can we just… -he bites his lower lip, insecure- Talk? Pretend we’re friends? Normal friends, maybe?  
  
Dylan considers the idea and then shrugs too, letting a small laugh out.  
  
-Ain’t gonna fuck you, ‘right? –he says, opening the door. When he turns back, Thomas has a huge smile on his face- Not now, nor after drinking… Seriously, man.  
  
Thomas gives him a confident smirk before walking back to the cab to get his stuff.  
  
-Well, we’ll see about that! –he shouts, the cheeky bastard.  
  
And just like that Dylan knows he won’t be able to comply.

  
  



End file.
